


Dust

by redledgers



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Clint Barton's Farm, F/M, Natasha-centric, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 00:26:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5561734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redledgers/pseuds/redledgers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: Natasha goes underground at the Barton farm after the fall of SHIELD.</p><p>or: It's whispers and dust beams and silence or Natasha finds solace in the only place she can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foolondahill17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolondahill17/gifts).



It was whispers and losses that brought Natasha to this place. The most solid thing in her life was now no more than a few dozen agents and a pile of ash. _I’ll figure it out,_ she’d said, but what she’d really meant was _I’ll leave and I’ll hide and I’ll probably be only a little okay._ And it had taken the last ounce of courage for her to drag herself to this place, to let herself into a vulnerable situation at the moment she needed to be strong.  
  
It smelled like home and dust and sunlight and it was still warm and inviting, but it was empty. She was cautious upon entering so as not to disturb the dust, and spent time cleaning and organizing so that the emptiness seemed more her and less like she was spending time in another person’s space even though she was.   
  
The bath she drew was hot and foamy and she sat there until her skin pruned and her tea was gone, and afterward she felt more relaxed and refreshed than she had in ages. A soft robe and slippers later and she was curled up on the bed with a small book that she had been given years ago.   
  
Natasha settled into a routine to forget about the loss and to reconnect with herself in a way she never had a chance to do even at the beginning. It is not until her third week when she returns from a run that someone else had chosen to occupy this space. It was his, after all, and really she was the intruder.   
  
She was greeted with a hug, a silent solidarity, and when they broke apart an _I missed you, I couldn’t find you_. She makes him coffee because he is always slow to rise, and they watch the sun set together as she pens new identities into a tattered notebook. It is not an easy time for her, for either of them, but she finds new peace in his presence that she had been lacking on her own.   
  
The farmhouse holds memories and grief and emotions only conveyed through whispers and prayers, but it is solace and cover, so they stay for a while longer until they are called upon again. Natasha reemerges and feels reborn to a world of destruction but has never felt freer in her life.


End file.
